


Things Jackson does for fun

by Kaspah



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Weird Dream Things, bottom!Jackson, jackson riding a dildo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1421350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaspah/pseuds/Kaspah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Update: Some locker-room stuff. </p><p>Jackson's has some very specific needs, and there are only so few people that can take care of those needs. And, he rides a dildo, so. There's that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so yeah. I don't own Teen Wolf or any of the characters mentioned. If I did, it'd be a massive orgy, all the time.

Fuck, everything felt so damn hot. Hands pressed against the edge of his bed, firmly digging into the sheets and plush, knees splayed against the wooden flooring. Every fiber of his being lit aflame, sweat trickling down the bridge of his nose as heated breath escaped in short bursts. Short juts brought him down on the dildo, opening him up wide, always brushing against that little button that sent stars and explosion inside his vision. 

“Fuck!” As the silicone drug deeper and deeper, rubbing against that bundle of nerves inside of him, he went through every person he knew. “God...” Who was it under him? Who fucked him so damn much that it had his cock leaking on the flooring under him? Couldn't be Danny, no. Too much of a friend. Nor any of the Lacrosse team, they would never fuck him this good. Had to be-- “Fuck, Stiles!” Weak, skinny Stiles, pale skin clashing against his own, hands holding his hips, bringing him down onto his cock, slamming into him with as much energy as he could muster; Stiles, had to be. 

“Fuck me, Stiles...” Breathy whispers, fingers tangled inside the sheets. Slumping forward, he arched his back, riding the dildo with everything he had, pressing his hips forward, dragging his cock against the edge of the bed, smearing precum in thin lines. 

“Don't touch yourself, Jackson!” Stiles' voice whispering into his ear, taking command of him, keeping him from even pleasuring himself without his consent. Feeling that hot coil of heat inside him grow, he pictured Stiles holding his hips down against his cock, keeping Jackson there, cock dripping—weeping for release, but Stiles wouldn't give in. No, he wanted Jackson to beg for it, wanted him to feel every inch of his cock driving into the star athlete's ass, wanted him to scream for it. “Man, look at yourself! You're supposed to be the star, the guy that has it all.” Heated breath at the shell of his ear, licking along the supple flesh. “You're riding my dick like you've known it all your life.”


	2. The Scottish Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scottish are invading.

Jackson couldn't help the way his body reacted to Scott's fingers traveling down his back, digging his nails into the Jock's back, leaving little red lines marring his skin. One quick intake of breath, almost a hiss against the backdrop of sirens going off in his head. "S... Scott..." His mangled response to Scott's digit curling along his spine, causing him to shudder and arch his back, his own fingers clawing desperately at the locker-room sink holding him up -- knees having gone weak from a lack of reprieve. Shit, how did he manage to let this happen? Scott's hands grabbing at his ass, squeezing hard, releasing in short intervals, effectively making Jackson moan with every ounce of need he could even fathom. "Damn it, McCall!" One particularly hard squeeze caused him to grip the sink all that much more. Damned McCall and his incessant need to tease him so damn much! Would've been simple if he just fucked him and got it over with, but no; had to fucking tease him till he could feel tease welling up. Not from pain or some idiotic thing like that, but because he hadn't even gotten off yet! 

"You're the one that told me to come over!" Hissing into his ear, Scott's teeth grazed his earlobe, almost as a threat that he might just bite into him. Fuck, why did that sound so damned good to him?! Feeling Scott tugging at his earlobe, tongue dabbing at the soft skin, threatening to bite down and send a wave of pain filled bliss through his body; Jackson trembled. God, why did he want that so much?! That finger of Scott's trailed down further and further, down to the bottom of his lower back and just sat there, digging almost painfully into his back. Fuck, damn it Scott. Move. He needed this... So much... 

"Hold yourself up for me?" Why did he even have to ask? It wasn't like he could go anywhere with his raging hard-on painfully trapped between his pelvis and the sink---

Shit. There went his knees again.

He felt it, the sudden heated breath caressing his inner thigh, then McCall's tongue tentatively licking his hole, dipping further and further inside to lap at it. It wasn't hard for him to even figure out how his tongue slipped in so easily, possibly helped along by the fact that the two of them were still dripping wet from their earlier shower.

Bending further over the sink, Jackson released a pent up breath, head lolling forward, back arching--damn near pressing his ass back against McCall, but a sudden slap against his right ass-cheek caused him to twitch and hiss. "The fuck, McCall?!" He'd have protested more, but the tongue went back to work inside of him, teasing him where only toys and his own fingers had been before, and damn did he love it. First of all, how had Scott learned to use his tongue like that? Who cares. 

Fingers clutching at the skin, knuckles white, he looked like a mess compared to his usual self. Naked, panting, clutching harder and harder as time passed, dick hard and twitching. Not to mention Scott McCall's tongue torturing him with just his tongue alone. 

"Jackson, you look so pretty", Scott pulled back, tongue circling the pink ring, flicking against the edge. "Are you always like this? Desperate? Needy?" Fuck, was this still Scott? He sounded weird, more aggressive than usual. But, he'd be damned if it didn't turn him on that much more. "Acting like a big-shot, but all you wanted was someone to fuck you..." Scott's hands fell on Jackson's hips, holding him in place. 

"McCall?" Jackson inquired, almost glancing back to make damn sure it was Scott saying such dirty things to him, but then he felt Scott's body pressing against his back, dick sliding between his cheeks, teasing Jackson so god damn much, he actually whined in sheer need. His fingers clutched at the sink more, knuckles white when Scott decided to move his hips, grinding his length back and forth in the crevice of the Co-Captain's crack, both of Scott's hands trailing back to squeeze and push at Jackson's ass, pressing him against the Alpha's shaft. Jackson dare not speak, or else his tone might betray what he was really thinking. 

'Fuck me already!', were among many of Jackson's thoughts. 

Scott pulled back a few more inches, the tip catching on the rim of Jackson's hole. Jackson held his breath, hoping to whatevcer fucked up god above was watching down on them, that the tip could press inside him and end the agonizing wait coursing through his veins.

But, it slipped out again. "Fuck- Scott! Just do it already!" He hissed.

"Do what?" Was he joking? The tip caught again, digging in so blissfully, teasingly close that he was sure his slobbery, puckered ring kissed the tip. Jackson's shoulders rose, red coloring his cheeks. Scott continued to pull back, but only centimeters now, continually grinding his cock-tip against Jackson. 

"Please, okay? Please p-put it in." Using every ounce of patience he had left, he asked politely. If Jackson looked back, he wouldn't even recognize the way Scott was looking at him. But, he'd hear it soon. Scott hooked both arms around him, one trailing down the well defined sheet of abs, all the way down to grip at the length of Jackson's dick, squeezing painfully hard-- Jackson actually yelped. 

Scott wouldn't admit it, but he borrowed everything he knew about sex from the porn he -frequently- watched. 

"Such a needy slut", Scott's finger flickered across Jackson's tip, "I bet you'll whine like a bitch soon, won't you?" The digit pressed along the slit, coating itself in precome. "You'll be mine, right?" Scott moved the hand on Jackson's dick, laying just in front of Jackson's mouth, finger coated in pre. He hadn't even needed to say anything to get Jackson to open up. "Such an eager slut." He groaned when Jackson's tongue licked and lapped at his fingers, even shoved his finger into the slut's waiting mouth, twitching it back and forth, pulling at his cheek just to see if Jackson would notice; he didn't. All Jackson wanted to do was suck on his finger. "Bet if Stiles were here, you'd be even more eager, huh?" Jackson froze. 

"You know, I can smell you, right? Every time we're in the locker-rooms, you smell like a bitch in heat." Scott slipped the tip inside, meeting little to no resistance at all. Jackson was far too gone to care, or even notice the stinging that should have been there. For him, it was Stiles saying all these things to him, it was Stiles sliding his thick cock inside of him, Stiles using him for his own selfish desires-- Stiles turning him into a slut, watching his expression in the mirror, the way his tongue curled around his pale digit. 

"And, your hole... I didn't want to say anything at first but, it's already looser than it should have been." Scott pressed further, arching his hips at just the right angle-- suddenly Jackson saw stars at the edge of his vision, mouth hanging open in a silent gasp-- a moment that Scott decided not to waste by slamming in balls deep and making Jackson cry out in shock. 

 

\-----------x----------

 

Jackson bolted awake, never once noticing the string of drool connecting his mouth to his biology textbook. 

"Something wrong, Whittemore?" What? Jackson blinked a couple times, clearing eyes and wiping his mouth. "Glad you joined us, Jackson." His underwear felt wet, and what was worse was that it dribbled down his inner thighs. It was safe to say he should probably leave and so he did, completely missing the thumbs up that Stiles shared with a very confused Scott.


End file.
